Going Down Swinging
by theytalktome
Summary: Alberto Del Rio was the best kisser in the world; Ricardo was sure of it. His lips were as luxurious as the many cars he owned.


Ricardo couldn't believe himself as his fist collided with the high-flier's face. He couldn't help but grin as he thinks about the bruise that would form there in the coming hours. No one had really ever taken him as a threat, but this was quickly changing. This really wasn't the type of guy that he was, but he had been dying to do it for an entire year; he doesn't regret it as he kicks the older man on the ground, ignoring the searing pain in his ankle when he does so. "Usted se lo merece…" His voice is shockingly dark and sinister, but it had felt so good that he would have done it a second time had he been uninjured. He turns and quickly walks off as fast as crutches would take him down the arena halls, an appropriate send off to the Superstar.

The ring announcer steps into the private locker room with a soft knock, not bothering for an answer as he enters. He observes the love of his life, just sitting there against the lockers, looking meticulously over the new ring gear he had received earlier in the day but had no time to look over before the match to come in a few hours. The announcer admires how much media work he had done just to entertain the fans and satisfy the Chairman. Rodriguez calmly admits to his actions on the other superstar: his bosses ex; and does this with out looking directly at the aristocrat, but staring past him somewhere along where the ceiling met the wall molding. He talks, and talks, and talks not really telling the whole truth about what he had done. His voice beginning to annoy himself as he rambles on after his confession, throwing every defense he could for his actions with out having been given reason to do so by the other man. He does not realize the precise second when he's walked up to until he feels the reassuring hand on his shoulder and looks into beautiful coffee colored eyes; their faces dangerously close

His vocal chords stop producing words or sound immediately. He stares at his employer and best friend, remembering that same loving look he had the night that he had almost got to third base with the man, stopping short of a heavy make-out session that had him dying for more.

If only Del Rio had not been the man of such morals and outstanding character that he was, to have felt guilty for his own actions out of depression and loneliness. Ricardo had wanted to be "taken advantage of" - in Alberto's words - so very badly.

Rodriguez almost truly wished that Alberto was not so brain-dead to the fact that he was in love with him: almost - he's being hugged for his actions, and isn't sure how to respond until he slowly envelopes his arms around him too, taking in the manly scent of his exquisite, distinctive cologne he wishes his sheets smelled of, and just like that he's pulling away and Ricardo nervously stares at him as if he had done something wrong - because maybe he had. He gulps and Alberto laughs, slapping him playfully on the back as he goes to answer the door Ricardo didn't hear being knocked on.

He could feel his own blood boiling as he stands there by himself, Alberto at the door, fully expecting him to open it to the crying, bruised up face of Evan Bourne. The feeling is only slightly less worse, and definitely more infuriating when the new, literal pest walks into the room and plops himself down on one of the chairs by their suitcases with ring gear spread out on the floor, holding a plate of cheese in one hand and what Ricardo guesses as the rest of the wedge it had come off of under his arm. Conor O'Brian may have just walked in gnawing on the announcer's heart with his long incisors.

Ricardo narrows his eyes at him, and it's just met with this awful smirk that makes him want to beat the man down with his crutches. Alberto locks the door, an audible click that makes the young announcer's mind run wild with dirty thoughts until he's being helped back across the room devoid of crutches and left in the tedious care of his employer. He doesn't bare look when he's sat down against the lockers and Alberto is sharing a kiss with the filthy sewer rat.

Ricardo sighs and, ever unnoticing, Del Rio only questions if the sigh is due to the injury caused by Swagger, and at this he nods. It was the perfect excuse to heartbreak, and Alberto nods in return before going back through his new bag of gear and walking away to dress himself more privately.

It's no secret that Conor was aware of the feelings his lover's employee possessed, everyone was, except Alberto after all. He smirks and grins, tossing another square chunk of cheddar into his mouth and chewing it with his mouth open. Ricardo cringes, unable to see what it was that all of a sudden had his love reeling in newfound affection for his NXT rookie.

He's so busy being disgusted and irritated that he doesn't entirely catch the whispered, sarcastic remark made at him. He jumps up and quickly insults the other man in a tirade of choice words in the Spanish language that had the other just staring at him with a confused and careless look that just made him more outraged, and unfortunately loud enough for Del Rio to come running in his trunks and one half of his knee pads on his ankle; swearing in a way that only Ricardo had understood. Ricardo is reprimanded first, and then slowly after O'Brian is as well; though not to the same degree. His rat could do no wrong.

It was the most annoying thing to Alberto that the two couldn't find the ability to get along and not treat each other like cat and …mouse. He rubs at his temples in frustration and sits away from them for a few moments until Conor makes his way to him apologetically, claiming that Ricardo had started it while the announcer doesn't bother to defend against the situation and with his suitcase, leaving to the dressing area of the locker room to complain privately to himself behind closed doors while getting ready to face the sold-out arena without looking obviously annoyed.

He shuts the door harshly behind himself, only to find that it doesn't lock and sighs with exasperation. He's just about to get his suit prepared when he hears the obnoxiously loud sound of the way Conor kisses; a sloppy, disgusting tell-tale wet sound of lips smacking. The man couldn't do anything with class - and yet Ricardo can't help but quietly open the door just a little, enough to see out of it with out being caught. Del Rio had such a perfect kiss - completely opposite of O'Brian. Alberto Del Rio was the best kisser in the world; Ricardo was sure of it, and he had briefly felt it first hand. His lips were as luxurious as the many cars he owned. He watches the two, O'Brian perched on the floor by Alberto's bag, leaning up while Alberto tilted his head toward him. Unlike the rat, Alberto's kiss was soft, gentle, slow: passionate; and perfectly matched with the scent of his cologne mingling with the senses. He could tell that Alberto really did, somehow, fall in love with Conor.

Alberto loved with all his heart, dedicated and incensed with passion. It was almost frightening how much he could devote himself to one person. As much as Ricardo wanted to be the one that explosion of infatuation was directed toward, he was purely glad that the cycle of never ending depression and self-loathing from his divorce had officially ended. Del Rio's happiness was all he truly wanted after all.

Rodriguez sinks into the door, leaning against it as heavily as his breath was hitched in his throat and just barely escaping his lips. He stares voyeuristically, tongue wetting his own dry lips while he watches the sensuous kisses of Alberto colliding with the mauling of the rodent. Something about the mixture of proper classes has him grinding against the door.. And the way Conor had moved his hands to the aristocrat's hips, brushing teasingly against his crotch as they made their way even lower and Ricardo was dying to be the filthy rat as a soft moan from his lover was released between kisses.

It was something about luxury and what Ricardo could only describe as underground sewage colliding; it was purely hott to watch.

He ignores the idea that Conor's breath likely smells of cheddar and watches as Del Rio expertly engages him into a slower rhythm; Ricardo's spine tingles and his knees get weak as Alberto's strong hands glide from the rat's perfectly shaped, bearded jaw line to sensually lure him up off of his feet and into his lap in a motion that seemed far too fluid and natural for the pest to accomplish with the grace that followed it. He releases a small amount of breath in a shudder and shuts the door completely, as silently as possible and releases the handle in the slowest way possible so that the click wasn't audible. Ricardo looses track of time; the door being knocked on followed by Alberto's concerned voice outside it asking his friend if he was alright in there. Out of his fantasy world, the announcer hurriedly dresses himself and just about gets his Mexican flag bow tie and sport coat on as he opens the door to Alberto's fabulous smile; he could see the concern washing away from him and his eyes just brighten. It was the greatest feeling in the world to know that Alberto had some type of affection for him - even if it wasn't a love beyond friendship.

He stands back and admires the champions new, albeit extremely bright shirt. It takes a few moments to process the highlighter-yellow color against the perfect bronze skin, struggling for a compliment about it; he runs his fingers through his long black bangs and blinks a couple of times. He instead goes for a joke; implying that the WWE warehouses had simply found a huge supply of highlighter shirts to use. Del Rio laughs and his eyes light up so beautifully that Ricardo just stopped moving and simply smiled; taking in the beauty like the most opulent scenery possible.

The world shatters so briefly from the moment of fantastic bliss. Ricardo turns back to the locker room as he opens the door, politely asking Alberto if he could grab the crutches for him he had "forgotten" and is glad he had the foresight to look out before leaving. He glares darkly at Evan outside of the door, wanting him to just continue walking down the hallway without even thinking of bothering his ex with his presence.

When the small star doesn't back down as expected - or hoped for - Ricardo takes a hard step toward him; he was going to go down swinging with no second thoughts. The small superstar confidently steps up to the announcer, and he realizes that Bourne just doesn't look as cute and innocent as he did a year ago. He narrows his eyes at him and could not care any less to hear what he was going to say when he shoves him into the opposing corridor wall. Evan hits it harder than Ricardo had expected; and maybe it was just sinister of him to laugh, but it felt so good to hurt the other man… who comes at him full force. With an injured ankle, Ricardo fights on his feet as prominently as he could before he wrestles the smaller star onto the floor, throwing punches wildly in every which direction - he wasn't the natural fighter that Alberto was… It also didn't take very long to retrieve crutches, or pull his announcer off of his ex during their shouting match. The already injured Ricardo wanted Evan to choke on what he had said and done to his employer.

The Heavyweight Champion pulls the two apart, disbelief and anger lacing his words together while Evan stared at him from his position on the floor, not sure what to make of the foreign words. Alberto harshly criticizes Ricardo's actions, snubbing him right in front of Bourne. Ever the gentleman, Del Rio offers his hand to Evan and helps him up off the concrete - the precise moment Conor is walking out from the room to intervene and throw the significantly smaller, unthreatening to him performer right back into the wall and pinning him there with all of his weight and threatens Bourne and isn't scolded for strikes him and there isn't a damn peep from helps himself up and steps back as Bourne is thrown to the ground and finally Del Rio makes the move to stop O'Brian from inflicting anymore damage. His words are kind, reassuring and loving that what he had with Conor was under no threat by Evan, his romantic words laced in the most beautiful and poetic of Spanish phrases. He turns again to help the young man from the floor and apologizes for the actions of his lover and his friend, who he casts a dirty look toward. He offers some kind, friendly smile and shakes the kid's hand, politely telling him it had been nice to see him again, getting his own life back on track before excusing himself for his match.


End file.
